Anniversary
by chandy
Summary: The Team remembers a sad occasion. Warning: Main Character Death


Okay, so I'm taking a small break from my other fic to post a revamped version of an old fic. Hope you enjoy :)

God, Face hated anniversaries. All the fuss, all the pomp and circumstance to acknowledge what should be recognized on a daily basis anyway. Or maybe it was just that this particular one he'd rather forget. The anticipation of this anniversary had filled him with dread. But there was no putting this off any longer, he thought to himself as he adjusted the knot of his tie one final time.

He stared into the mirror. When did the wrinkles around my eyes appear, he wondered. He smiled sadly at his reflection, knowing he was being characteristically narcissistic. That was at least one thing that hadn't changed after receiving their pardons. "Time to fly," he whispered to the empty house as he grabbed the keys to the 'Vette off the countertop, privately enjoying the duplicit meaning of his words.

Face started to unlock the door to the 'Vette, but after a moment's hesitation, jumped in. He laughed aloud at his rebellious reminiscence, but it sounded hollow to his ears. He turned the key in the ignition absently, jumping as the radio began blaring. The radio was tuned to a rock station. Face was more of a classical kind of fellow, but sometimes the music comforted him. It reminded him - well, there would be plenty of time for that later.

He pulled out onto the main road, unhindered by traffic. The sun reflected off his golden hair as the wind whipped it around playfully. He paid little attention to the disc jockey who was cuing up the next song. The strains of a guitar began to play, and the first lines caught Face's ear:

_Doesn't seem that long ago_

_[Four] of us walking down that road_

The next couple of lines were lost as Face fumbled for the knob to turn up the volume. The next line sent shivers racing down his spine.

_Those were the best days now they're gone_

We did have a lot of good times didn't we, Face thought to himself. Despite being on the run, we had a lot of laughs. Murdock was always there to lighten the mood with his crazy antics and endless parade of personas. Captain Cab and the Range Rider had kept Face in stitches for weeks afterwards despite any outward protestations.

_Oh, it's been twelve years since it went down_

_Lord lost my best friend now_

Face gaped at the console. It was as if the artist were singing for him and him only, but that was impossible. The artist couldn't know it had been twelve years to the day that he had lost his best friend.

Face remembered the events vividly as if they had occurred only yesterday, despite his best efforts to forget. The mission was supposed to be a simple recon mission, in and out. All they had to do was grab the senator's daughter and hightail it to safety.

The Team had used a front door approach. "Damn, Hannibal," he fumed. BA waited in the running van. The in part was easy thanks to Face's lock picks, but the way out proved to be tragically difficult.

The kidnappers had opened fire when he, Murdock, and Hannibal had been mere inches from the black van. Hannibal had grabbed the girl by the wrist and thrown her in the back of the van with instructions to stay down. He then climbed to safety in the front seat next to BA as Murdock and him laid down cover fire. Face had backed into the van, pausing only for a brief second to allow Murdock to enter, too. In that brief second that both their guns fell silent, a bullet slammed Murdock against the floor of the van. The black hightops were still brushing the ground. Murdock, acting on instinct, sat up to swing his feet into the van.

Face's eyes filled with tears at the overpowering memory. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. He pulled over suddenly, slamming the wheel in frustration with the palm of his hand. "Dammit, Murdock! Why?" He knew he was drawing stares, but he didn't care.

As Murdock sat up, he simultaneously pushed Face down onto the floor of the van with an elbow. A second bullet whined past his ear. He heard Hannibal yell "Go BA!". The tires began screeching and bellowing smoke as BA stomped on the gas pedal, but not fast enough. A third bullet, nanoseconds behind the previous shot lodged itself in Murdock's chest, a place occupied by Face only moments before.

The van finally lurched forward and sped away as Face laid his friend in a supine position, attempting to ascertain the damage. He gingerly removed the leather flight jacket and placed it to the side. Oh God! The blood. Where was it all coming from?

He stared in horror as the realization dawned on him. There was a gaping hole in Murdock's midsection and another right over his - his heart! The blood came gushing out, bubbling with each breath his friend struggled to take in. Murdock's entire T-shirt was soaked with blood. Face couldn't even make out the zany saying it beheld.

"Hannibal," Face whimpered.

Unbeknownst to Face, Hannibal had already exited the front seat and stepped into the back of the van. He sat there with Murdock's head in his lap. Until that moment Face hadn't noticed the trickle of blood running from the corner of Murdock's mouth to his ear - internal bleeding. Jesus!

BA continually threw worried glances over his shoulder, intent on getting them to safety so Murdock could be looked after properly. Hannibal caught his eye, a grim expression on his face. "Pull over first chance you get, BA." Hannibal must have known, and thinking back Face got the feeling that Murdock did, too.

The pilot shifted his unfocused gaze to Face. That simple movement took almost more energy than he had. The look was glassy and wild, but still those deep brown eyes bore into the young lieutenant's soul. Face saw all the pain, fear, love - and was that acceptance?

"Face," he rasped then coughed violently, splattering blood.

"No, no, no, buddy. Don't try and talk." The van came to a stop as Face continued to hold pressure on the chest wound. He had no recollection of even doing that. Hannibal was unsuccessfully attempting to staunch the flow of blood from the stomach wound.

A door slammed and then the side door of the van opened. BA climbed in and silently took over tending to the chest wound. The girl, horrified at what she saw, slipped out the door unnoticed.

"Why are we stopping? Why aren't we getting him to a hospital," Face screamed hysterically. "He needs blood. BA you can give him some."

A hand slick with blood weakly grasped Face's. Face looked down to see Murdock shaking his head. Face started to protest, but Hannibal silenced him with a wave of a black leather clad hand.

"Face," he began.

"Shut up foo'," BA said not quite angrily. His big black eyes shone not with anger, but with tears. Perhaps BA had known what was coming, too. Had Face been the only one to foolishly hope?

"Need to..." Another coughing spasm hit the pilot. When it had finally passed he dropped his head back exhausted with the effort. He took deep, shuddering breaths as a wave of pain hit him. Face squeezed his hand for all it was worth.

"Say what you need to say, Cap'n." Hannibal had eased up pressure on the stomach wound, and indicated for BA to do the same with the chest wound. Hannibal was soothingly stroking the thinning brown hair. BA took his other hand.

"Thank you." Murdock swallowed around the words painfully. "For being - uhhn - my family... Seeing the real me... Didn't wanna - uhhn - didn't wanna die alone."

Murdock grinned that silly grin to offset the gravity of his words, but only for a brief second as he twisted away in pain. Tears ran down his face, mixing with the blood. His breathing was becoming shallower now, and more erratic.

"No Cap'n. Thank you for everything you've given to us. Rest now, my son." Hannibal locked eyes with BA, brows furrowed.

Murdock turned his head back to look at BA. "My turn... be your... guardian angel."

"Stop that jibbajabba. Ain't time for that yet." Murdock nodded in response.

"I know. Uhhn - you do, too." BA gripped his friend's hand fiercely. The realization was sinking in with an overwhelming force.

"Don't worry 'bout Billy. I'll look after him for ya. He can even ride in m' van." Murdock gave him a weak pain-filled smile. His strength, along with his blood was leaving him at a rapid rate.

Murdock's whole body suddenly spasmed. His brown eyes glazed over as perspiration ran down his face. "Nonono. Don't leave me, Murdock." Murdock moved his head from side to side. He flicked his darkening eyes skyward as if to say 'I'll be up there watching over you. Up there is where I belong.'.

His breaths were even more shallow now and farther apart. Talking was next to impossible, but he had to get the words out. He licked his lips and tasted copper. His eyes met Face's. "Remember... Love...you."

"We will never, ever forget you! We love you so, so much, Murdock. Murdock?"

His breaths had slowed, his eyes so expressive became empty and unseeing, the life leaking out of them as his blood had left his body. A final sigh escaped those lips and then all was still.

"NO! Not yet! There's so much... Murdock? Murdock come back," Face cried frantically as he lifted his best friend's limp form to him. He rocked Murdock, trying to shake him back to life.

"Face." Hannibal gently touched his shoulder. "Face." The younger man was inconsolable. The Colonel had to drag Face away, tears streaming down his own cheeks.

BA was left alone with Murdock. He gently closed the lids of his eyes, and lovingly spread the leather jacket across his midsection. Without seeing the blood it appeared as if Murdock were merely sleeping. But those blood stains would always be a constant reminded of what they had lost. Only then did BA let the tears spill over.

* * *

><p>BA yanked open the door to the old shed. It had been ages since he had been out here. The black van had sat in this spot since that fateful day. The blood stains remained a faded crimson on the gray carpet. He had scrubbed and scrubbed, but nothing could remove them. And finally his heart had given up trying because, seen or unseen, he wasn't going to erase it from his mind.<p>

He only took the van out of storage to drive it on this day. It was almost a punishment to himself, lest he ever forget. Not that he could ever forget.

BA climbed into the driver's seat and started up the engine which roughly roared to life. He turned on the radio in the hopes of drowning out the memories as he backed out.

_I can still see him, fishin' on that old dock_

_I know I can't bring back yesterday_

_But oh Lord, can you help me find my way_

BA bowed his mohawked head over the steering wheel. A picture of Murdock and Face on the dock at Crystal Lake was conjured up in his mind. Murdock's 'friend' Bob was between them, both holding a fishing pole. "Two dummies," BA had huffed. Why? Why had he been so mean and heartless?

It was true, Murdock sometimes annoyed the hell out of him, but the man's craziness was harmless and good-spirited. BA secretly enjoyed his tension-relieving antics, although outwardly he showed nothing but contempt. Murdock did nothing to deserve his anger, other than offer his unfailing loyalty and friendship. A good heart in a heartless world. Would BA and the rest be doomed to be lost in the darkness without such a bright soul to light the way?

_Down to Brickyard Road -Oh walk on down_

_Down to Brickyard Road - He's with me now_

_Swore I saw a free bird fly_

_Ridin' the winds of a southern sky_

The next few lines were lost on BA as he choked up. Murdock's presence was still so strong, even after all these years.

At times, when the grief got so overwhelming it seemed it would swallow him whole, BA would look up to the sky and see a bird soaring through the clouds. That sight always brought a smile to his lips. Sometimes he imagined it was the pilot teasing him relentlessly as he always did in life. Murdock always did belong up there, both literally and spiritually.

Murdock once confided to him - rare, usually it was Faceman - that up there he felt free from all the pain and confusion here on Earth. There were no nightmares, no demons chasing him in his sleep, only beautiful dreams and a clear mind. BA scoffed at him and called him a 'Crazy fool'. Damn! Man was only speaking the truth - always spoke the truth.

BA never told Murdock why he wouldn't fly with him. Murdock thought it was personal. Nothing could be further from the truth. He regretted never disclosing the real reason. BA just let Murdock go on thinking BA saw him as incompetent.

A horn beeped urging him to move forward. The lyrics were bringing crippling emotions up . He turned onto a side street and parked.

_Brother do you realize what you've done_

_Touched the hearts of everyone_

_You might've died too young_

_But your songs live on_

BA let the tears fall unnoticed. Even with his dying breath Murdock had been thanking them, professing his love. It should have been the other way around. Over and over he had sacrificed himself for the sake of others.

In the camps he did not hide the fact he was a Captain and a hated pilot, and therefore one of the highest ranking officers. Even before Tommy Angel had sold out the rest, he had shouted that information loudly to protect the others. His actions established him as a leader, and subsequently a whipping post for the VC.

Murdock had been taken out of the bamboo cage several times and returned hours, days, and even weeks later. Each time he was tossed back in like a discarded rag doll, Face and BA would tend to his wounds and hold him through feverish dreams.

Murdock never talked about what happened during the interrogation sessions, but they had a pretty good idea. On one occasion when he was returned his whole body kept jerking. BA thought he was seizing as a result of some inflicted head trauma, but Face simply stated "Shock treatment."

After awhile his thoughts were no longer coherent, and it was like he wasn't really there anymore. That may have been a blessing at the time. But ultimately Murdock had sacrificed his sanity for the lives of others. Now he had sacrificed his life to save another's.

The funeral had been awful. Hannibal, like a true leader, had taken care of the details. Murdock had no family, Face was too grief-stricken, and BA was too numb. So the task had ultimately fallen to Hannibal.

BA was surprised at the overwhelming number of people in the small chapel. Amy, Maggie, Frankie, Tawnia and Brian, Kelly, Dr. Richter, some former clients, and fellow patients at the VA were among the hundreds of mourners. He couldn't swear to it, but he thought he even saw Decker lurking back in the shadows.

It felt as if all eyes were on them as the three remaining members of the Team slowly and deliberately made their way forward to the half open casket. The other half of the casket was appropriately and reverently draped with the American flag.

BA looked around the chapel, not quite ready to face the Captain's lifeless form. Some heads were bowed as if in silent prayer while others dabbed at the corner of their eyes. BA caught his mama's eye. She gave an imperceptible nod as if to say, Go ahead. I'll be your strength. It's okay to cry.

They all three looked down upon the still figure as one. Instead of a suit or a military uniform, they had all agreed to bury Murdock in his usual khakis, T-shirt, black Converse, and blue baseball cap. Face had argued vehemently against the leather jacket. He just couldn't bear to part with it. BA and Hannibal didn't have the heart or the energy to fight him, and that's the way Murdock would have wanted it anyway.

Upon seeing the pilot, Face had collapsed hysterically in tears. Hannibal and BA supported him between them. Face tore away from their grip, flying at the coffin.

Face hugged Murdock, then shook him fiercely. "Come on. Get up! This isn't funny any more," Face choked out between sobs. Hannibal had tried to pull Face away, clearly shaken by the lieutenant's display of grief.

After several moments Face finally collapsed on Murdock's chest and sobbed. Hannibal wiped absently at his tears. BA again tried to stand Face upright, but a hand on his shoulder had stopped him. He stood face to face with his mama who merely opened up her arms. BA had finally broken down, the sobs coming in great big gulps.

When he pulled away, Mama's dress was soaked. Somehow Face had gotten back into a standing position, and was now leaning heavily on Hannibal.

Reluctantly they took their seats in the first row of pews. The service began with the hymn 'Amazing Grace', Murdock's favorite hymn. A new batch of tears erupted from Face which had the domino effect. At the end of the hymn there wasn't a dry eye in the chapel.

The reverend began. "O ye though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..." BA tuned out, too lost in his pain.

At some point the reverend had opened the floor for those who wished to share sentiments of Murdock. After a few people had shared their thoughts, Hannibal had risen with a folded paper in his hand.

He cleared his throat trying to compose himself. "When I think of Murdock I think of his bravery and undying loyalty," he commenced. He went on to share stories of the camps, and of the time Murdock jumped in front of a bullet meant for him.

"Over the years I grew to love him as a son, as well as a friend. The world will never know how much it lost losing such a kind, gentle, intelligent, caring man. But I intend never to forget." He turned towards the coffin, eyes icy with tears. "Murdock always had a love of words, and I think he might like it if I shared some with you today. They may seem a bit perverse, but somehow I could hear Murdock saying they were oddly appropriate." He sniffed back a few errant tears before he concluded with a poem by Walt Whitman:

_O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,_

_The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,_

_The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,_

_While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;_

_But O heart! heart! heart!_

_O bleeding drops of red,_

_Where on the deck my Captain lies,_

_Fallen cold and dead._

_O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;_

_Rise up-for you the flag is flung-for you the bugle trills_

_For you bouquets and ribbon's wreaths-for you the shores a-crowding,_

_For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;_

_Hear Captain! dear father!_

_The arm beneath your head!_

_It is some dream that on the deck,_

_You've fallen cold and dead_.

_My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,_

_My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,_

_The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,_

_From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won:_

_Exult O shores, and ring O bells!_

_But I with mournful tread,_

_Walk the deck my Captain lies,_

_Fallen cold and dead._

BA slowly began to rise as Hannibal stepped down off the altar. He knew they had each agreed to say a few words, but words were not his strong point. Words belonged to Murdock, as Hannibal had just pointed out. Lord, that man could talk someone into a coma with his jibbajabba.

He swallowed his fear. BA wouldn't let Murdock down, not after all he had done for the big guy. He spoke ironically on Murdock's love of flying, how he had once talked the Colonel into LAX after being temporarily blinded. He touched on Murdock's loyalty and his gentle nature which was a balance to BA's temper. He mentioned Billy briefly. BA hadn't known he had so many words in him.

He turned towards the coffin. "I loved you although I never showed it. And I'll always love ya brutha, and keep ya close to my heart." He kissed his massive black hand and placed it gently upon the coffin as he made his way back to his seat.

Now it was Face's turn. Would the young man be able to do it? He rose slowly, hands on the pew in front for support. He painstakingly made his way to the front. After taking a moment to compose himself, he began:

"I stand before you today not only to mourn Murdock's untimely passing, but to celebrate his life, a life filled with countless obstacles. He was left motherless at the tender age of five, left with an abusive father with no other family to escape to. Yet, he persevered, and found a love of flying. His love of flying led him to be the youngest man ever to join the Thunderbirds. Forced to leave due to illness, he wound up in the jungles of 'Nam where we met. We formed an immediate kinship. We had a lot in common, including our family life. But while I wallowed in self-pity, Murdock shined with optimism. As the war raged on the four of us became each other's family, leaning on each other, counting on each other, trusting one another. No one was more deserving of that trust than Murdock. He had risked his life to pull us out of the fiery jungle hundreds of times, with no regard for his own safety. He was wounded twice, and received two silver stars for his efforts.

War does funny things to a man, steals their souls. But never Murdock. For those of us that knew Murdock well, you know he spent most of his adult life in a mental institution. Most people blamed it on the horrors of the camps, but that was only a small piece of it. See, for someone so full of life to be surrounded by so much death...And then at the end of the war we were arrested. Eventually we escaped and went into hiding, but Murdock was unaware of that. He thought we had abandoned him. And in a way I guess we did leave him behind, something we swore we'd never do." Face's bottom lip trembled, but he continued. "His heart was broken.

My point is this: for a heart so pure and true to survive it must be protected. So he built a wall around himself. Hence the internal war he was forced to rage on a daily basis. We tried to fight with him, being there when the nightmares took over, but he had said, 'This is one battle I have to fight alone'. I admired his courage and his fortitude for waking each day thankful to be on the Earth and enjoying every moment to its fullest.

When we had finally returned to see him at the VA to tell him we would be going on the run, he insisted on coming with us despite his illness and weakened condition. 'Ya gotta stick with your unit' he had said. We abandoned him as a time when he needed us the most, and here he was worried about our safety. I shamefully had my doubts, but Murdock proved he was stronger than any of us.

He acted as our pilot, friend, a brother, my best friend, a clown, our rock, our mediator, and our support. Everything we should have been for him but wasn't, he was to us.

His final act of love was to lay down his life for me. Much like the bullets he had taken for Hannibal among others, the bullet that robbed him and us of a life, was meant for me." Tears were now streaming down his face.

"He died the way he lived - a hero. Murdock will always be remembered for his flying skills, his soft southern drawl that never raised in anger, that silly grin he plastered on his face to make us laugh or put strangers at ease, the kindness in his heart, and the gentleness in his soul. But to me, my best friend will always be a hero - my hero in mind, body, and soul. A spirit so strong it can never truly die. Thank you, Murdock for showing us what life is supposed to be about. There will never be a day that goes by that we won't miss you. Let us all try to live up to his example."

Silence reigned at the heartfelt sentiment just delivered. The only sound was tears dropping onto the hardwood floor.

After a few words from the reverend the service was concluded. Face, Hannibal, and BA hung back so they could say their final goodbyes before the casket was closed forever.

* * *

><p>Hannibal sped down the boulevard, oblivious to the other motorists. He was alone with his thoughts, having convinced Maggie to stay at home with the kids. God, how the kids would've loved Murdock who was like a big kid himself. It just wasn't fair that someone who had had so much love in his heart, would be robbed of the chance to share it.<p>

"It's something I have to do privately," Hannibal had explained. Maggie had understood. After several years of marriage she had realized that she had not only married Hannibal, but the Team as well.

A sad song drifted up from the speakers. Rather appropriate, he smirked. He guessed he had joined it somewhere in the middle.

_You might've died too young_

_But your songs live on_

_I know I can't bring back yesterday_

_But we'll be all together, again someday_

That last line struck a chord with Hannibal. BA had said something to that effect as they stood beside Murdock's grave. How did he put it? 'We found each other in 'Nam -' "God will lead us back to you in Heaven," Hannibal finished out loud.

Only a few blocks from where he was going, Hannibal had to pull into a parking lot. His crystal blue eyes swam with the memories.

The service had been hard enough, with Face's outburst and the eulogies. But the cemetery...it was the final goodbye.

The three of them had stood outside the hearse in full dress uniform, awaiting its contents. Dr. Richter had joined them. Murdock had once described him as the fourth most important person in his life, so it only seemed fitting that he made the fourth man - the fourth that should've been Murdock. They stood two man to a side, Hannibal and Face in front with BA and the doc in back.

The foursome made their way slowly to the top of the hillside, the sun reflecting brightly on the American flag draped over the silver casket. The mourners had gathered at the graveside and watched as the four men placed the casket on the platform. They stepped back, Dr. Richter falling in with the rest of the mourners while the other three remained aside.

Some words were said and some passages read, but Hannibal wasn't paying attention. He was preparing himself for the orders he'd have to give - the last orders he'd ever give.

The rifles were picked up somberly. Face, BA, and Hannibal had fallen in line with the others. Hannibal swallowed around the lump forming in his throat.

"Ready! Aim!" Rifles raised. "Fire!" The shot pierced his heart. He saw Face flinch.

"Ready! Aim! Fire!" He blinked back tears and saw BA did the same.

"Ready! Aim! Fire!" The last shot echoed in the silence as the rifles lowered. Funny how they were honoring their friend with the very thing that put him in that wretched box.

BA and Face had begun to fold up the flag. They presented it to Hannibal without emotion. Hannibal had wanted Face to have it, but Face declined saying he didn't deserve it. He would keep the pilot's leather jacket instead.

Hannibal had done the next best thing. He handed it back to BA. "This really belongs to the wife or mother. Your Mama was a mother to Murdock, the only one he's ever really known. You two should keep it in Chicago."

BA tried to refuse, but Hannibal insisted. "Murdock would want you to have it." BA was touched and hugged Hannibal. How Murdock would've loved to see the big guy voluntarily hug someone.

With Mama holding onto the flag, the three of them stepped up to the lowering coffin. Each threw a single rose on the coffin.

The other mourners fell back into the shadows of the surrounding trees. Some got in their cars and drove away, leaving the three alone by the grave.

The hole in the ground reflected the hole that was now in their lives. "We have to do this," Hannibal broke the heavy silence.

"I can't." It was the first time Face had spoken since the eulogy.

"Be strong." BA placed a loving and supportive hand on his shoulder.

"My strength is gone - gone with Murdock," Face said with a mix of bitterness and sadness.

"He ain't gone, not really. His spirit survives as long as we do, Faceman."

"BA's right. We're saying goodbye to his body, not his spirit." Hannibal knelt down urging the others to do so.

The three formed a semicircle around the grave. Each grabbed a handful of earth.

"May you be free of all the pain and suffering you endured in this life, and may the next life give you peace. Thank you for everything you've given us. You have our eternal gratitude and love. Remember you always, Cap'n." Hannibal spread the dirt over the casket and stood up, taking a place behind Face.

"I may not have showed it, but I loved you like a brutha, man. Worried 'bout you like a brutha, too. Always acted like you was the weakest one, but you was the strongest. I'll miss you. But we found each other in 'Nam - God will lead us back to you in Heaven." BA dropped the contents of his hand onto the casket and stood up beside Hannibal. They both stood behind Face with a hand on each shoulder.

Face sighed, eyes downcast. His lips moved as if in silent prayer. "I can feel you. It's like you're still here. I never want to lose that feeling, lose you again. But I know I will, and that scares me. There won't be a day, even a second that goes by that I won't miss you. You were everything to me." An unchecked sob escaped his lips. "Watch over us so we will be reunited when the time comes. Vaya con dios, muchacho." The last words were haunting. Face sprinkled the dirt over the casket and broke down.

BA and Hannibal comforted themselves and the young lieutenant, tears christening the ground. A bird flew by low, overhead. The scream caused them all to look up. An eagle had taken to flight that day.

_Things ain't the same since you left our world_

No, Murdock. Things were never the same without you. It took a lot of time to even rebuild a semblance of an existence. Gradually, day by day they had picked up the pieces.

BA, of course, had gone back to Chicago to be with his Mama. One of the first things he had done was to set up a shrine with the flag. Murdock's medals were placed strategically around it with a picture of the pilot with the Team to round it out. BA used it as an incentive to open up his daycare center which he named the HM Murdock Center for Children.

Face had a more difficult time, staying with BA for awhile. But it got to be too painful and he had fled to a secluded house on the beach, at first only speaking to them on the anniversary each year as promised. Most of the time he spent alone with the memories. The leather jacket was never far out of reach.

And Hannibal, well he'd gone back to Maggie. Thank God for her. She had helped him work through the pain, insisting he talk about Murdock. After awhile the clutching in his chest was replaced by laughter whenever a thought of Murdock entered his mind.

He was coming to this place again. Had it really been another year, twelve years in all?

_Swore I saw a free bird fly_

_Ridin' the winds of a southern sky_.

It had been twelve years, and he was now all silver on top, his jowls prominent. He stared into the rearview mirror at the wrinkles around his eyes as he parked. Those eyes fixed on BA and Face who had arrived before him.

Usually Face was late, but never when it was pertinent to Murdock. He would always show up to break Murdock out of the VA, early even. Perhaps he wanted Murdock with him more than he let on. But he had been the one to insist that Murdock stay in the VA and get help. The breakdown had scared Face most of all, afraid he would never get his best friend back. And somehow they were here again.

The three of them walked up the hillside behind the VA, exchanging half hearted greetings. There'd be time for catching up later. For now there was a higher purpose for being here.

The hillside crested overlooking a small stream. They stood under the shade of an oak tree. Face bent down to scrape away the leaves and cut grass off the stone while BA pulled some weeds away from the edges until finally the etching was clear:

**Capt. 'Howling Mad' Murdock**

**November 24, 1947 - May 31, 1988**

**Beloved friend, pilot, unsung hero, member of the A-Team**

**"Ya gotta stick with your unit"**

Well, Murdock. You are no longer a secret weapon. You are an exposed weapon like you wanted all along. We never gave you the credit you deserved.

When the three men left there was a tiny fern, a stuffed Billy the beagle, and a sock with a face drawn on it left behind. Some where over head, a bird soared.

Song by Johnny Van Zandt, "Brickyard Road"


End file.
